


Bottoms Up

by house_of_lantis



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Dubcon/noncon for triggery arm grabbing and yelling and spanking, Language, M/M, diva behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-09
Updated: 2012-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-29 06:51:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was inevitable that when Kris finally made a mistake, it would be a “big” one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bottoms Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atomic_dawg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomic_dawg/gifts).



> Written for atomic_dawg; spanking prompt at Kradamadness.

For the most part, Kris knew how to handle Adam Lambert, international diva rock god and prince of the tabloids.

Despite Adam’s public persona of hardcore partying, boy loving, girl kissing, sixteen counts of public nudity, twenty-nine counts of public drunkenness, two counts of fighting, four hundred pictures of his penis pretty much everywhere, nine financial penalties by his management and label, and thirty-two personal assistants in four years – with Kris being the latest personal assistant hired by Adam’s desperate management team – Kris thought Adam was an okay dude.

For the most part.

It was probably in Kris’s favor that he was (1) professional (2) competent (3) didn’t take anything Adam dished out at him personally and (4) didn’t respond when Adam flirted with him. Lane once asked Kris if he thought Adam was hot.

”Would you let him fuck you?” She said, leaning close to him as they watched Adam sauntering half naked through the Hugo Boss store as every salesman on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills seemed to have come in to help him try on new clothes.

Kris looked up from his tablet and adjusted his glasses. “He is an attractive man.”

“Yeah, I know, but would you hit that?”

Kris watched as Adam bent over in front of the mirror, checking out his own ass. He glanced at Lane and then looked at his tablet screen. “Not my type.”

Lane sighed. “Thank God.”

Apparently, one of the reasons why the previous thirty two personal assistants never worked out – even the female ones – was because Adam ended up fucking them and then firing them soon after because he or she always tried to get even more involved in Adam's life - they had that kind of access. Eventually, they would demand that Adam curb his appetites and change his ways. It was a matter of time. Kris thought that he and Lane were the only two people on Adam’s management team that didn’t get fucked by Adam, hence their longevity in their jobs.

It wasn’t the easiest job Kris had ever had, but it wasn’t the hardest either.

Adam enjoyed being a ruthlessly demanding client; he had the ego of a rock god and his id was as selfishly impulsive as a two-year old. Kris mused that Adam probably deserved it. He got to see Adam behind-the-scenes. He worked 20 hours a day, either in the studio or in rehearsals for his tour. He worked 6 days a week. He appeared on pretty much every TV show and radio show to promote his music. He was constantly meeting with his management team, his label, his producers, his songwriting partners, his costume designers, his make up team, his fans – Kris spent more time trying to give him a 30-minute break in his schedule so that Adam would have time to eat or take a cigarette break.

So Kris knew from experience that when Adam was cranky and impatient and lashing out, it was because he had low blood sugar. Kris was always ready with a little piece of a Kit Kat bar. When Adam was snide and pouty and frustrated near tears, it was because he was exhausted and Kris made sure to signal Lane to interrupt whatever Adam was doing and get him in the car and taken home to rest. When Adam was bitchy and mean and nasty, it was because he was, well, bitchy and mean and nasty. Kris made sure to smooth things over and to always have plenty of plaid handkerchiefs handy for the inevitable tears. One time, Kris had stood stoically beside Simon Fuller, letting him cry it out as Kris patted the older man on the back. They never spoke about it, but Kris suddenly had a pretty significant raise in his next pay check.

And that was how it went.

“You’re a fucking saint,” Lane slurred as Kris carried her to his car outside of the Korean BBQ bar, smelling deliciously smoky. “That’s what you are, you know.”

He helped her into the front seat and pulled the seatbelt across her body, locking her in. “Do you want some water, Lane?”

She burst into tears. “No, I need a valium, Kristopher!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t promote self-medicating. I could get you some Excedrin. And I recommend that you drink some water,” he said, patting her shoulder and handing her a plaid handkerchief from his jacket pocket.

She took it and glanced at him, wiping her face and blowing her nose. Kris sighed. It was good that his mother kept sending him a steady supply of plaid handkerchiefs.

“Come on, let’s get you home. Big day tomorrow.”

Lane sobbed into his handkerchief and Kris sighed, closing the door gently.

Some days, he wasn’t sure if he was hired to help organize Adam’s day-to-day or to keep Adam’s entire management team sane. This wasn’t even Kris’s first trip of the evening to collect one of Adam’s people from self destruction. Adam seemed to bring it out in them. Kris wondered why. In the year that he was Adam’s personal assistant, Kris was probably the only person who hadn’t had a break down because of Adam.

***

It was inevitable that when Kris finally made a mistake, it would be a “big” one.

It was 8 o’clock in the morning when he let himself into Adam’s gorgeous house on the hill, overlooking Los Angeles. He dropped his bag and tablet on the dining room table and walked into the kitchen to start the coffee. He checked the contents of the fridge to see what Adam needed and made a long list of groceries for Adam’s personal chef to purchase at the farmer’s market. He walked into the room designated as “his” office and booted up the computer. He turned on the TV to the 24-hour entertainment news channel to see if there was anything about Adam.

He went back out to the dining room to collect his things, grabbed a cup of coffee through the kitchen, and went back to his office. He set everything down on his desk and was surprised to see Adam sitting on the other side of the room, glaring at Kris.

“Good morning, Adam.”

“What the fuck did you forget to do today, Kristopher?”

Kris frowned and then looked at his tablet, bringing up Adam’s schedule. He had four appointments, none of them starting before noon. He looked up at Adam. “You’re meeting with Simon and then lunch with Brad and a little mini fashion show at Cassidy’s and going to Alisan’s show.”

“What day is today?”

“Tuesday.”

“And what happens to me every Tuesday morning at 8 o’clock in the fucking morning like clockwork for the past six years!”

Kris made a face and ran his hand over his head. “Your massage.”

“Yes, thank you! My fucking massage!”

He glanced at Adam and then picked up his iPhone. “I can set up an appointment—“

“NO!”

“Why are you so upset?” Kris said, keeping his voice calm and low. “It’s only going to take me a few minutes to have someone—“

“That is not the point, Kristopher.”

“Then what the heck is the point, Adam?” Kris snapped, his hand clenching into a fist.

Adam’s eyes widened for a moment. “Come here.”

Kris would never know what made him challenge Adam. He smirked and gave Adam an ugly look. “Make. Me.”

“You little shit,” Adam growled, getting off the couch and taking three long strides towards Kris. He grabbed Kris’s arm and got right in his face. “You fuck up my entire day—my entire fucking week by forgetting to schedule my goddamn massage and you actually think you’re going to stand there and TALK BACK to me?”

“Maybe you’ve been so spoiled that you should think about why you need one all the time to make it through your week?”

“What did you say?”

Kris sneered. “You heard me. Rock star.”

And then Kris found himself bent over the desk, Adam’s hand pressed down the middle of his shoulders, his other hand slapping down hard on Kris’s butt. He blinked in shock and jerked against the edge of the desk as Adam spanked him.

Spanked him!

“Adam, what—“

“You have been a very bad boy, Kristopher,” Adam snarled, grabbing a handful of his hair and holding his head down against the desk.

Kris flinched and tried to get away as Adam slapped one butt cheek and the other, the pace unrelenting and hard. He felt his face turn red, ears burning, as he grabbed hold of Adam’s wrist, digging his fingernails into Adam’s skin.

“Get off, Adam!”

“Little bitch,” Adam hissed, pulling his hand away and releasing his hold on Kris’s hair.

Kris pushed Adam away and scrambled to his feet. He swallowed thickly and headed for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Adam said, grabbing him by his arm and pulling him to the couch.

Kris found himself – how did he even get here – over Adam’s lap, being held down as Adam spanked him.

“Such a bad boy! Forgetting my massage!” Adam shouted as he spanked Kris. “Someone didn’t pay attention!”

“What—what’re you doing?”

“Bad boys get spanked on the ass!” Adam yelled at him. Kris wiggled on Adam’s lap, his face reddening when he felt Adam’s hard cock pressed against his stomach. “Bad boys don’t get to ask questions!”

Kris tried to push out of Adam’s hold, only to have Adam grab one of Kris’s wrists, bending his arm behind his back and bracing him against Adam’s thighs.

“So fucking naughty! Such a naughty boy!”

Kris was so hard.

He bit the leather cushion and tried not to moan, but when Adam spanked him again, the ache and soreness radiated straight through his cock. He wiggled again, not to escape, but to rub his cock against Adam’s thigh. He closed his eyes and just—just let go.

The sound of Kris coming made Adam stop. He trembled against Adam, one hand fisted into Adam’s shirt, knuckles white and red. Kris panted roughly and then stiffened, his hips jerking involuntarily as he rubbed off on Adam.

“Jesus,” Adam whispered, his hand stroking over Kris’s ass, burrowing between his thighs to cup his sensitive cock and balls through his pants. “Fuck, Kris…show me.”

He pushed Kris to the carpet and Kris stared up at him, eyes black with lust as he looked at Kris like he was prey.

“Open your pants and show me.”

He fell back on his elbows, hands reaching for his belt and undoing his khaki pants. Underneath he wore a dark blue pair of briefs, a wet spot darkening the briefs. He met Adam’s eyes and bit his upper lip with his teeth.

“Pull them down, I want to see.”

Kris swallowed and pulled the front of his briefs down, showing Adam his cock and the creamy white stains on the underside of his briefs.

“Ah, fuck, baby…”

Adam sank to his knees, hands pressing Kris’s thighs apart. He held his breath as Adam bent over, his hot tongue licking up and down Kris’s cock, and sucking on the come stains making wet nasty slurping sounds.

Kris watched as Adam moved up to his hands and knees over him, one hand frantically pulling open his jeans, curling around his cock. Kris licked his lips as Adam jerked himself off, hard and fast, until he came on Kris’s stomach. He groaned, looking down at Kris, and let out a dark chuckle. He licked and kissed up Kris’s cock, swirled his tongue through both of their come, and crawled up Kris’s body. He kissed Kris, his tongue smearing the come into Kris’s mouth. He moaned into the kiss as Adam broke off, laughing.

“Was that good for you, naughty boy?”

Kris stared at him and then smiled, blushing slightly. “Yes.”

Adam hugged him and then fell on his back beside Kris, laughing at the ceiling. “God, Kris, the things you make me want…you drive me absolutely fucking crazy.”

“You love it.”

He turned and smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

Kris knew that there was more to that. After all, he had seduced Adam from the first day they met. He kept Adam happy and healthy and sane. And he didn’t try to change Adam. They both knew that Kris wasn’t just a fuck, he was Adam’s Kris. And while Kris couldn’t stomach Adam’s public life under the hot spotlight of the paparazzi, Adam craved that Kris gave him shelter from all of that. Underneath the fierceness, Adam really was just a cuddle bunny.

He turned on his side and wrapped his arm and leg around Adam, pressing kisses against his cheek. “Thank you. My butt hurts real good.”

Adam snorted, rolling his eyes. “When I saw my calendar last night, I was…I couldn’t sleep. I think I made Lane cry because I was just screaming all these things that I wanted her to do.”

“Yeah, I picked her up at a bar and drove her home,” he said, snickering. “You got to stop doing that to your team, man. That’s not nice.”

“Well, stop putting shit like ‘spank Kris at 8 AM’ on my personal calendar and I won’t go insane waiting for you to come home!”

Kris laughed, licking the earrings in Adam’s ear. “Guess what I’m going to put on your schedule for next Tuesday?”

The End.


End file.
